


Genetically perfect for me

by MI5WWII



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Bottom Stiles Stilinski, Knotting, M/M, Mates, Professor Derek, Scent Kink, Scent Marking, Scenting, Scents & Smells, a weird obsession with coffee
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-13
Updated: 2015-07-02
Packaged: 2018-04-04 04:17:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4125241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MI5WWII/pseuds/MI5WWII
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Dear God why are you so angst ridden? It’s not like you have this deep turmoil ridden back-story to support this weird self hatred you carry. Jesus, just ask him out on a date, Derek. It’s not every day you meet a mate match.”</p><p>Derek, a werewolf genetics professor believes in love and mates, on a biologically viable level. Stiles, a grad student in wereology believes in true love. They are a mate match, perfect for one another on every level, if Derek can ask Stiles out for coffee.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A rose by any other name would smell as sweet

**Author's Note:**

> Part 1 of the intended 2 chapters for this story.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realize my formatting is really weird and.I.can't.figure.it.out?!?!?!  
> Like I'm sorry guys but help I don't know what I'm doing technology hates me.

“Laura’s mate smelt like orange peel and sandalwood. That was the first thing I noticed about him upon meeting him five years ago. As with anyone, their scent is the first thing noticed by a werewolf. Humans can’t truly understand the complexities of scents. Werewolf biology is different in the brain, as well as the obvious shift changes. We perceive living organisms’ scents differently. They are translated into discernible smells, food, plants.ect. The scents are translated on a basic biological level, skewing likelihood of friendship or rivalry before words are even exchanged. It is sometimes wonderful; sometimes an immense bother, as it goes with anything.  
Mates, different amongst wolves than humans, are even more complicated. Pheromones are a known phenomenon amongst humans. They work on a subconscious level, making you like that date or dislike that one for reasons you aren’t even aware of. Maybe that guy was an initially awesome date but once you kissed, it was like skidding in an oil patch on pavement. Werewolves are conscious of the interworking of these pheromones and the meaning of a pair’s genetic compatibility. Each wolf perceives other’s scents differently, in some subtle way or another. A mate smells different to the bonded partner than another pack member. It’s basic brain chemistry and cell receptors, a marvel and mystique of wolf culture explained through simple science.

  
Mates aren’t always compatible on a personality and mental level. Simple compatible genetics doesn’t equal a guaranteed happily ever after. Sometimes mates aren’t forever. There isn’t one single person that exists solely for you. Everyone’s genes match up with many others. It’s a matter of matching genetics and emotional compatibility. Science doesn’t explain everything, no matter how much we want. It doesn’t explain soul bonds or the sometimes rare but possible mental connections between mates. I’m a geneticist not a magician…”  
I turned from the blackboard covered in the unintelligible scrawl of my notes, fiddling with the stubby piece of white chalk in my hand. A petit auburn haired girl raised her hand. Her name started with an M, Maria, Meredith, Macy…

  
“Doctor Hale, is it true that mates’ scents are compatible, even with humans?”

  
“They are, a bonded pair’s scents are usually quite complementary, even perceived differently by individual wolves. Humans too, have complementary scents, though since they can’t identify complex scents, often times they don’t quite match, since many humans do not marry their truest genetically compatible mates.”  
At that moment I caught a hint of cream and honey and tilted my head to catch sight of Laura’s hovering form just within the room’s doorway. I glanced to my watch and chucked the piece of chalk onto the desk.

  
“I think that will be all for today, I’ll go ahead and let you all out a little early. Don’t forget your papers are due midnight tonight in my drop box.”

  
Laura sidled in with a quirked eyebrow as my students flooded out the door. She greeted me with a “hey baby bro” as I scented her hair.

  
“What are you doing here?”

  
“I had a haircut so David is watching Owen, thought I’d swing by and grab you for lunch.”

  
I stuffed a haphazard pile of papers into my briefcase and admitted. “Lunch sounds good; I only had time for coffee this morning.”

  
Laura’s mouth thinned as I threw my coat over my arm and walked her out of the room. “Have another rough night?”

  
“Quit worrying so much, you’ll get gray hair.”

  
Laura was convinced my recent bout of slight insomnia was due to being unattached. It didn’t matter that I hadn’t met anyone with an interest worthy level of scent compatibility in years; not since Guillermo, a one night stand while studying abroad in Spain during my first year of grad school.

  
We walked to the small pizza joint just off campus. It was all the rage with the students, just the right blend of college scene and small business hipster vibe. They cooked their pizzas in a wood oven and their beer was the expensive kind with British spellings under the listed ingredients. Laura loved the place, it was the main reason she always visited me on campus.

  
I sat across from her sipping one of those expensive imported beers after we ordered, before I sighed. “So what did you really want to drag me here for?”

  
Her innocent grin slipped into an impish one as she flipped her newly trimmed hair over her shoulder. “So Scott was too nervous to ask you himself.”

  
“Oh God what did Scott do?”

  
Laura laughed. “Relax, nothing, he just wants to bring a friend to our pack meeting Friday night.”

  
I scrunched my eyebrows together and scratched at the label on my bottle. “A friend friend or a friend friend?”

  
“A friend friend, “she said.” You heard him talk about Stiles when he last visited.”

  
“Isn’t that one of his housemates, wasn’t he working on his masters for some supernatural something.”

  
Laura beamed. “Look at you, you do listen sometimes. He’s the kid getting his masters in Wereology. Scott is bringing him home to visit and he really wants everyone to meet him.”

  
I shrugged. “Why are you asking me, you’re the alpha?”

  
“Yeah but it’s your house,” Laura countered.

  
“I guess, tell Scott to quit picking up strays.”  
///  
Friday night arrived with the house nearly bursting at the seams. Official pack meetings were only once a month. Getting everyone together proved difficult and with nearly the entire pack in college or knee deep in work, we didn’t see each other like we used to. Not like in the early days; when pack ties were tenuous and the house was still a burnt out shell. Laura had David now, and Owen turned three soon.

  
Erica wore teal scrubs and a tired smile from a late shift in the ER. Boyd sat beside her rubbing his thumb across her wedding band and quietly scenting her jaw line. Lydia could be heard bitching at Jackson from the kitchen.  
“I told you to grab a ham and pineapple for Stiles.”

  
I had no previous knowledge that Lydia also ran in the same circle with Stiles. Stanford was a large school but she seemed well versed in the knowledge of Scott’s friend. Jackson muttered back a halfhearted excuse when the rumbling engine of a non pack vehicle pulled into the driveway. Owen chewed playfully on my collarbone as Lydia swept from the kitchen and into the entryway. I listened as she opened the door and Scott and Stiles clomped up the porch stairs. Owen sneezed against my neck and continued chewing while growling playfully. A foreign but pleasant voice exclaimed from the doorway.

  
“Lyds, you lying liar that lies! You said you weren’t going to be here!”

  
At that moment Scott hauled the infamous Stiles into the living room with an arm thrown over his shoulders. He appeared to be in his mid-twenties, handsome, brunette, and lithely muscled. He had sharply defined features, an upturned nose and round eyes. I parted my lips a crack to scent the air with a subtle inhale. Humans often found the werewolf penchant for sniffing to be offensive. Halfway through my intake of breath and I nearly reeled backwards.

  
His scent was divine in only the way that a genetically perfect match, a viable mate, could be. My brain buzzed, sorting through the layers of his natural scent and the lighter temporary smells he wore in his clothes and skin. He smelt like coffee spiced with cinnamon and the clean crispness of woods in the morning after a light rain, petrichor, damp earth and the taste of a cool breeze. Even dazed and nearly knocked off my feet, in the back of my mind I could acknowledge that his scent melded perfectly with my own. My own scent carried a slight trace of coffee with a stronger overlay of ginger and the sweet hint of trampled mint and ferns.

  
I breathed deeply and stood frozen, not knowing what to do. My gums ached as my wolf’s canines pressed down with the urge to shift and claim. My vision sharpened in the way it only did as my eyes flashed. I broke out of my daze as Owen patted my cheek and nuzzled my chin. “Uncle Derek,” he asked.  
I came back to reality with owlish blinks to see the whole room staring at me. Stiles chewed on his bottom lip, looking awkward and uncertain. “Ummm hi, is now a bad time?”

  
Laura advanced forward, looking positively gleeful. David cast me a sympathetic look from his hiding place behind a newspaper.

  
“No, not at all, it’s wonderful to meet you Stiles. Now that you two are here we can finally eat.”

  
Everyone squeezed into the kitchen and Laura grabbed Scott by the ear. “Can I talk to you for a second?”

  
His protests weren’t even past his lips before she had him halfway out the front door. I stood petrified, stunned with a mouth full of saliva and Owen squirming and yipping in my arms. I inched towards the kitchen with shaking knees and legs that didn’t seem to want to work. I edged through the door and stiffened as Stiles brushed against my arms while the others fought over the pile of pizza boxes on the counter. He rubbed the back of his neck and smiled at me from under his lashes. “Uhh hi, hazarding a guess I’d say you’re Derek?”

  
I shifted Owen to my left arm and stuck out my hand as an automatic reflex; though I fought the urge to pull Stiles in by his shoulders and lick a long stripe up the line of sinew on his pale neck. The muscled lines of his throat and the cut of his jaw against his neck looked near pornographic. Inside my mouth I ran my tongue over the pointed tips of canine teeth breaking through my gums and swallowed thickly.

  
“Yeah that’s me.” My voice came out grated and wolf rough. Owen pursed his lips at me and patted my face in question. As if my odd behavior wasn’t obvious enough. A kid noticing I my strange behavior and voicing it only added another layer of icing on the cake of my bizarre actions. I cleared my throat and ignored Laura’s distant murmuring from outside.

  
“You’re the Wereology major right?”

  
Stiles visibly relaxed and his scent sweetened as he grew less uncomfortable and nervous. “Yeah, last year of my masters.”

  
Owen began chewing on my collarbone again and chanted a muffled mantra of Uncle Dereks against the collar of my shirt. “What do you want to do with that?”

  
At that Stiles face scrunched in agitation. “I don’t really know, teach maybe. I might take a break before pursuing a PhD though. The thought kind of makes me want to weep right now. Scott says you teach?”

  
“Werewolf genetics.”

  
Stiles smiled and his sudden full attention pinned me down, like a bug in a collection. I realized his eyes were a warm gold, too light to be called brown, though honey was more applicable a term to a shifted werewolf’s eyes. They were more the shade of caramel, or melted brown sugar.

  
“Dude that’s so cool! I thought of going into that for a while but it’s a bit hard to teach something so specific with being human.”

  
“I have a grad student majoring in werewolf genetics who is human. I wasn’t aware that was a dissuasion.”

  
Stiles shrugged and shoved his hands into his jeans pockets. “I just feel like I couldn’t teach it as well as a werewolf could. I don’t have some of that personal experience, like with scents and shifting. Majoring in Wereology gives me a less focused thing to teach, and something more easily relayed by humans.”

  
The front door opened and Laura swooped into the kitchen with Scott trailing after her, looking like Wiley Coyote left in Roadrunner’s dust trail. Before I could protest, Laura snatched Owen out of my arms. He huffed in irritation but soon latched onto her shoulder with his teeth.

  
“Well I’m glad to see you’ve gotten over your weird moment Derh.”Laura threw over her shoulder with a smirk.” You two go ahead and eat, I’m going to get Owen down for the night.”

  
I blinked as she whirled Owen upstairs and Scott squeezed between Stiles and I to make a grab for pizza. I hadn’t even realized we were standing so close.

  
“How’s your semester been going Scott?”

  
He turned with half a piece of pizza crammed in his mouth. “Ih buhn ghud I goh tha inherohrfhe!”

  
“Scott my hearing isn’t that good.”

  
Stiles grinned as he snagged a piece of pizza. “He got the internship with Deaton this summer.”

  
The rest of the pack crowed with cheers of congratulations muffled around food. Scott elbowed Stiles with a pointed look. Stiles rubbed his neck and my attention wavered, momentarily diverted by the sight of his long fingers and sinuous hand rubbing against the column of his throat. “Well I mean we both got internships with Deaton.”

  
Erica sidled past to prance into the living room, cradling pizza and beer in her arms. “You’re interning as a veterinary?”

  
Lydia rolled her eyes. “Deaton practices magic and used to practice as a pack dignitary dimwit.”  
I quirked an eyebrow in curiosity. “You have a spark? What in the hell are you going into Wereology for?”  
Stiles shrugged as his scent blossomed with embarrassment. My nose itched at the sudden shift and I fought the urge to sneeze.

  
“I found out really recently that I had a spark through sheer accident so…” His cheeks flushed.

  
Scott swallowed down his pizza and laughed hysterically. “He blew a breaker fucking Danny.”

  
Stiles turned near crimson and I dug unexpectedly sprung claws into my hands. I made myself take several deep breaths and swallowed back a Neanderthal like growl. Scott’s attention switched from Stiles to me like a spotlight and his mouth curled in sudden understanding. He herded the conversation to safer topics and Stiles’s embarrassment dissipated while I tried to divert my attention to safer things.

  
To my chagrin the rest of the night passed without Stiles and I speaking again. Well after midnight everyone stumbled home or passed out in my living room, too drunk to drive. The next morning Laura raised one, silent, judging eyebrow from behind her mug of coffee. “So,” she paused for dramatic effect, “Stiles is cute, huh?”

  
I poured a cup of coffee and sat beside her at the kitchen bar. I took a sip, hissed at the burn, and squinted in tired reflection. “He’s human, which-complicates things.”

  
“So he doesn’t know you both smell like a cup of Joe; just ask him out on a date like a normal person.”

  
“He’s in grad school, still in student mode. He wouldn’t want to be saddled down in a serious relationship with someone who could be considered to be his professor. We don’t know whether he’s attracted to men or not and I don’t know he’s attracted to me.”

  
Laura groaned and rubbed the palm of her hand against her eye. “Dear God why are you so angst ridden? It’s not like you have this deep turmoil ridden back-story to support this weird self hatred you carry. Jesus, just ask him out on a date, Derek. It’s not every day you meet a mate match.”

  
She silenced the argument half formed past my lips with a growl and a quick snap of her teeth. I sighed into my coffee.  
///  
I glanced up from my mountain of papers with a deep furrowed frown at the sound of a light rapping knock on my office door. I yanked my reading glasses off in surprise to see Stiles hovering in the doorway, fist still raised and a hesitant expression in his eyes.

  
“Ummm-hi, you look busy, I should-“

  
His scent hit me a moment later and I swallowed as my glands went into overdrive and my mouth flooded with saliva. His scent hung heavy with discomfort, tart like mown grass or broken foliage. I smiled and hoped it didn’t look like a constipated grimace. “Stiles, what are you doing here?”

  
He edged into my office and perched himself in the chair before my desk. My attention skittered to the line of his navy sweater pulled tight against his shoulders and away in one blink. He wove his fingers together and bounced his thumbs against his abdomen. “I have a major research paper due next Tuesday and I came home early for break, problem is I’ve run into a couple hiccups and I was-well would it be too much trouble for me to interview you and site you?”  
I leaned back in my chair inhaled lightly, savoring the forest sweet cologne like hints wafting towards me. “Of course,” I said, “what is your paper on?”

  
“Well I’ve been attempting to do a general research analysis of mate scents perceived and reacted to by werewolves. Problem is, I’ve been having trouble getting some first hand, professional statements and opinions on the matter.”

  
Internally I felt my wolf roll its eyes, I resisted the urge to do the same. Somewhere above God laughed at me without mercy. “I see your issue, what would you like to ask me?”

  
Stiles pulled out his phone. “You mind if I record this?” I nodded and he switched it on, placing it on the edge of my desk. “Well I guess I’ll start with something personal and a bit forward if you don’t mind. How many mate matches have you come across and what has your brain translated their scents as?”

  
I sucked on the inside of my check and rocked my office chair for a moment. “I’ve run across three mate matches. My first was a female when I was-Jesus, fifteen I suppose. She smelt like honeysuckle and caramel macchiato? It was a long time ago, I can’t quite remember anymore,” I apologized.

  
Stiles grinned, corners of his eyes crinkling with already well formed laugh lines. His scent grew sweeter, furling with a catch of cinnamon sugar.

  
“My second was a male when I was, twenty-two I think, he smelt like olive trees, this weird pastry I’ve only had in Belgium and French press coffee. The third is-“I cut myself off with an embarrassed cough, not quite able meet Stiles’ eyes.”Male, present, uhh recent-“ I felt myself grow more flustered, “He smells like an organic pour over coffee, cinnamon, a morning in the mountains after a long nightfall rain.”

  
I glanced up to meet Stiles eyes. The highest points of his cheekbones were pink with fellow embarrassment. I noted that his scent curled with a darker aroma, as if the blend of coffee in his scent was suddenly French roast.”

  
He cleared his throat and rubbed the back of his neck. I forced myself to keep my eyes from drifting to the view of his long neck.”Well that’s the most awkward part over with.” He laughed with a curious glint in his eyes. “Thank you, I know that was pretty personal. So how strongly do you feel the pull of a mate match’s scent?”

  
“It’s different with each compatible mate, and I know for certain it’s different for every wolf. My first mate match was a very gentle pull. I would compare it to walking past a bakery and catching a hint of fresh baked goods. My second match was an abrupt sort of pull. Non wolves forget that we feel the pull in our inner wolf, often times on a mental and spiritual level, even though it’s simply a basic genetic match. With that second match it was a very strong pull, but only on a physical level. My third-has been my strongest match yet. It was-is, a bit overwhelming. I often find my wolf being pulled to the surface; it can be quite hard to control.”

  
Stiles nodded looking serious and deep in thought. I licked along my gum and ran the tip of my tongue against the pointed tip of my canine breaking through. “Why do you think that is, your wolf pushing closer to the surface?”

  
“It goes with the baser instincts of mates and mating in general. My body recognizes a genetic viable match, the animal part of me surges forward to claim that mate and reproduce before someone else does. The better the genetic match the stronger that urge to claim is for the healthiest offspring.”

  
The interview continued for another hour. Stiles sat perched in his chair, firing question after question on me. On many of them I stammered or stared down my piles of papers needing to be graded. Stiles finally clicked off his recorder app and leaned back in his chair. He grinned and I sagged in quiet relief.

  
“Well that was super helpful, man. I can’t thank you enough for this, my paper was screwed before but you completely saved it. I bet your classes are really interesting.”

  
“You seem to be more interested in werewolf psychology than you do genetics.”

  
Stiles lit up, scent bursting with the body odor sweet laden tang of excitement and sweat, a natural body heat reaction Stiles seemed to have when riled up. “I’m really interested in everything, I find genetics this fascinating faction, especially when you hear about human genetics so much more. I read this book on the gradual blending of the Eastern European dominate traits with the Celtic during the-“he cut himself off and laughed,” and you’re busy and don’t need to hear me blather on.”

  
I swallowed back panic as he stood and without processing it clearly slipped out, “Unfortunately I have final papers I need to finish going over at the moment, but I’d love to continue this over coffee.”

  
Stiles pivoted on his heel and grinned. “I’m free all next week, whenever is convenient for you.”


	2. Wake up and Smell the Coffee

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys!Sorry it took so long to update,life's been a wee bit crazy and I admit, I procrastinate sex scenes. Sex is hard,sex is the worst to write, I suck,anyways,enjoy.

I groaned from between the splayed covering of my fingers. “He thinks it’s an academic meeting, Laura.”

  
Laura didn’t bother to glance up from the pot of boiling spaghetti sauce on the stove which she stirred with a bored expression. “Even if he does, which I doubt, it’s a chance for you to get to know him,” she said.

  
I dug my palms into my eye sockets and sighed. I broke off my long suffering sigh at the sound of Laura setting a mug of hot chocolate on the counter beside me. She went back to her spaghetti sauce without a word and I stared at the melting blobs of marshmallows. Upstairs Owen began to cry and I scooted off my stool obediently after Laura shot the ceiling an accusatory glance. Halfway up the stairs I heard Laura mutter, “I take care of two children, I swear to God.”

///  
Stiles slid into the chair opposite of mine, wrapped in a wool scarf and ridiculous pea coat that didn’t seem to serve any other purpose than to accentuate the long, lean lines of his torso. His entire face glinted a ruddy red from the cold. He wore the temporary scent of Scott on his coat, as if he were hugged recently, and as he unwrapped his scarf and shucked off his outer layers I inhaled, lips parted and tasted his scent on the back of my tongue.

  
“Sorry I’m late, Scott got back today and we had to reunite after our world splitting time apart.”

  
I laughed over the brim of my coffee cup. “What’s it been, a week?”

  
Stiles grinned, though the arrival of our barista interrupted his retort. Stiles smiled up at the girl and I fought back a growl as her scent ripened with interest. She smelt like lemon zest and almonds, her particular brand of interest carried a darker musk of orange oil. Stiles remained oblivious, to both of our reactions.

  
“I’d like a macchiato please, completely dry, ooh and some tiramisu please.”

  
The barista smiled, scent furling with deeper interest and she hovered a second too long. Stiles’ attention wavered as he wrapped his coat and scarf across the back of his seat and I pulled my lips back at her before he could see. She flinched and rushed back to the counter. Stiles sat up and balanced his elbows on the edge of our table.

  
“So, you get that impressive mountain of papers graded?”

  
“Thank God,” I said,” graded and returned as of yesterday. How did your paper go?”

  
Stiles gave an indifferent shrug, though his scent wavered with embarrassment. “I did alright; my professor really liked our interview. I think I’ve finally gotten on her good side, I’ve had four of her classes and I swear she hated me at first.”

  
I swallowed a large mouthful of coffee and let my cup clink against its saucer. “Why is that?”

  
He shrugged again, though this time with an air of slight annoyance. “Academic opinions I suppose, we got into an argument not long into her first lecture. She insists humans are indifferent to a compatible mate’s pheromones.”

  
I raised my eyebrows. “And you think differently?”

  
Stiles leaned back in his chair and huffed. Our barista arrived with his macchiato and tiramisu and slid them onto the table without meeting my eyes. After she left Stiles rolled his own.

  
“I’m human aren’t I? I get that our senses aren’t nearly as sharp as shifters’, but we are animals, we do have senses. I can see you sitting here, I can hear the milk being steamed right now, and I can smell the espresso from my macchiato. I can also smell when it’s going to rain, or if Scott has been necking around with Isaac. I know when someone smells good to me.”

  
“Does that equate you being able to pick out a mate’s pheromones though?”

  
Stiles took a sip of his macchiato and slurped a heavy layer of foam into his mouth. I noticed his heart pick up and he smirked as he set his cup down. “I know that we’re mate compatible.”

  
I pursed my lips and took a deep breath, willing my own pulse to settle.

  
“I’m not exactly subtle though. Is this why you agreed to coffee?”

  
Stiles laughed at that, a startled giggle bubbling past his lips as he threw his head back and huffed out an amused airy sigh.

  
“I agreed to coffee because I like you.”

  
“You don’t even know me, besides that we’re mate compatible."

 

“I know you love genetics,” he said, “and that you’re awesome with kids. I also know that you love your sister more than anything and you secretly binge watch Star Trek.”

  
He snorted out a quiet laugh at my accusing look. “Admittedly I know that last bit because of Scott. So are you going to ask me?”

  
I blinked. “Ask you what?”

  
“Ask me what you smell like.”

  
“What do I smell like?” I obediently parroted back.

  
“Well,” he said and laced his fingers behind his head and leaned his chair back to balance on two legs. “I’d say you smelled awesome and you’d smell even better in-between my sheets and reeking of sex tomorrow morning.”

  
“Wow, does that line usually work for you,” I drawled.

  
“I dunno’, never tried it before, you tell me.”

  
“How about you wake up in my sheets and we’ll see.”

* * *

  
Stiles ran his fingers along the dusty line of my bookshelf. “I didn’t notice all your vinyl last time I was here.”

  
I leaned against my doorjamb and hummed. Stiles crowed and snatched one of my smaller records out of the collection and whirled on me with manic excitement radiating from his very core. “You have Jerry Lee Lewis, where the hell is your player?”

  
I gestured to my record player in the corner, lips quirked in a half smile. He put the small vinyl on with ease and rockabilly music blared into my living room. Stiles kicked of his shoes and slid across my hardwood in his wool socks and wiggled. I laughed as he snapped his fingers and swayed in a vague rhythm to the rolling beat. He turned towards me and grabbed my forearms.

  
“Don’t argue and dance with me!”

  
I sniggered as he pulled my left arm foreword and then my right, alternating so he swayed my body in tandem with his own. He whooped and wiggled, slipping and sliding his feet around. “You’re insane,” I said, though my grin gave me away. His scent seemed to flush darker with a spiced alcoholic tinge. My gums began to ache.  
He threw me out with our linked arms and whirled me back towards him. He slid forward and our knees knocked together as he threaded his fingers in my hair and danced against me. I grinned and wrapped my hands around his waist and swerved my hips in a figure eight motion. Our hips dragged together as we danced in my living room. His scent darkened further, with a catch of cloves and the sharp alcoholic bouquet furled as if a wine bottle uncorked.

  
I found myself giggling as often as Stiles as he lifted one arm and leaned his body back so that our hips pressed flush and he curved and rolled to the music. My grip on his hips tightened and I threw my own head back and let out a slow exhale. I rolled my hips forward and the zippers of our jeans caught. Heat pricked the back of my neck as Stiles swallowed and sighed, long and heavy through his nose.

  
I fisted my hand in his hair at the nape of his neck and pulled his torso back up to press flush with my chest. I swallowed as he let me pull his head to the side to expose the long line of his neck. His tendon jutted out to strain against his pale skin and I pressed my lips against his pulse. His throat bobbed against my mouth as he swallowed and I opened my lips to press my teeth against the thumping of his blood beneath his skin.

  
His scent caught against my tongue and I moaned against his skin. I pressed hot, damp words against the curving underside of his jaw. “Your lust smells like mulled wine.”  
He dug his fingernails into my shoulder blade and lifted himself to wrap his legs around me in one swift movement. I wrapped my hands around his thighs and our lips met, slow and hard pressing. The needle lifted off of the vinyl in the corner and the music faded so that the only sound in the living room was our lips smacking and Stiles’ pounding heartbeat against my chest.

  
Stiles kissed messy, open mouthed and hot breaths huffed against my chin between the soft worrying of my bottom lip between his teeth. He giggled when they grew messier with extra saliva smeared against our chins and wiped my cheek with his sleeve. We grinned against each others’ lips and Stiles murmured, gazing up through drooping lashes.

  
"So you takin’ me to bed or are we doing this here wolf man?”

  
I grumbled but walked us to the bedroom. Stiles smirked at me but kept his victory quiet until I tossed him on my bed. He patted the smooth navy comforter beneath him and shot me an incredulous glance. “You’re one of those weirdos that makes their bed, huh?”

  
I crawled overtop him and caged him under the bracketed line of my braced arms and shoulders. “Lots of people make their beds, Stiles. I’d even go so far to say it’s a fairly normal thing to do.”

  
Stiles rolled his eyes but wrapped his long fingers around the back of my neck and pulled me down to slot his open mouth over mine. He hummed and I felt him smile as he lifted his right leg to throw over my hips. I allowed myself to be pulled completely down, weight braced on my arms. Though his lids hung heavy, Stiles kept steady eye contact as rolled his hips up with purpose. Our jeans muffled most of the friction, though the press of zippers and denim was enough for me to cant my hips in return.

  
Stiles’ knuckles knocked against my abdomen and jeans as he reached between us to unbutton his pants and pull them a couple of inches down. He pursed his lips and I laughed as I grabbed at loose fabric around his knee and yanked them down. He easily slipped off his shirt so that he only wore a pair of red briefs. As I suspected, he was far more muscular and toned than his thin, clothed frame suggested. He had the physique of a runner; wide shoulders that tapered to a thin waist and the pronounced, shadowed lines of his hipbones.

  
I shimmied myself farther down the bed so that I could duck my head and lick along the contoured curve of his hipbone till my mouth met the white band of his briefs. Stiles hissed a breathy sigh from behind his teeth and I glanced up with a smirk. His scent blossomed, no, not quite right. His scent ripened, furled open in the room like peeled citrus, heady and heavy with spices and fermented fruit. I felt my teeth drop against my will and push past the barrier of my gums.

  
I bounced back to sit on my heels and muttered a sharp “fuck” into the stillness of the room. Stiles sat with a liquid smooth movement, almost as if his chest were connected to mine by a string. His fingertips dug into the meat of my shoulder. “No, Derek, it’s fine, it’s more than fine.” His heart beat steady and he flopped back onto the bed, pulling me with him.

  
I buried my face against the juncture of his neck and shoulder, mouthing at the skin and letting my teeth graze against his pulse. I rocked my erection into his and startled at the sharp, high pitched yelp Stiles let out. His legs fell open as he wrapped his hands behind my shoulders and rocked against me, letting out breathy “auh, auhs,” every time the hard seam line of my jeans dragged against him.

  
“Holy shit that feels awesome.”

  
I could only hum in agreement and open my mouth wide, clamping my jaw around the tendon standing out against his neck in a faux mating bite. Stiles arched off the bed and ground us together, shoving my shirt up to bunch beneath my armpits.

  
“Dude, I want you naked.”

  
I grinned around my dropped canines and murmured against his throat, “After you.”

  
His briefs slid down his legs much easier than his jeans. I gazed down at him for a moment, caught off guard. He quirked a lopsided grin at me and tucked his arm behind his head. His chest and neck stood out from the rest of his pale skin with a deep flush. His corded muscles and tendons were both stretched taught and relaxed, exhibiting the lithe lines of his body. His erection curved against the concave line of his stomach, long and smooth and flushed, just like the rest of him.

  
He tugged at the hem of my shirt with the hand not braced behind his head. “Your turn, wolf man.”

  
I pulled my shirt over my head by the back of its neck and shoved my jeans down my knees. Stiles pushed them all the way off with his toes and kicked them off the bed. He slid his hands down the back of my briefs and squeezed my ass with a pleased expression. “You got lube?”

  
I leaned over the edge of my bed and opened the bottom drawer of my nightstand and pulled out the small half empty bottle of lube. Stiles huffed out a delighted laugh. “Well aren’t you just a ray of prepared sunshine, you boy scout you.”

  
I popped the cap off the lube a bit too forcefully and it snapped off, skittering over the bed and dropping beneath the bed. We both stared after it for a moment before I sighed and yanked my briefs off. “I made it to Eagle Scout actually.”

  
Stiles crowed in laughter even as he dragged his hand up my side and pulled me forward to grind our erections together. I shuddered at the heat and friction, and Stiles ground against the sweat slick hollow of my hip. He groaned against my shoulder, “So you gonna’ put that lube to use or just hold it?”

  
My retort caught in my throat as he punctuated his snarky comment with a sharp grind of his hips. In my haste I poured a ridiculous amount of lube over my hand. Stiles snickered but opened his legs and tilted his neck back in invitation. I skirted over his erection and lightly over his balls, listening as his pulse increased. I ran my fingers lightly over his hole, massaging and relaxing him, letting him adjust. I watched a blush rise higher on his face as his lashes brushed against his cheek bones.

  
I leaned forward on my left arm, continuing to run my fingers along his rim, circling and rubbing. Stiles sighed out, “Come on, Derek, more.”

  
I pushed in my middle finger to the first knuckle and watched Stiles’ face before pushing it to the second. Stiles’ lips parted and he keened, tilting his hips up. I stretched him for a moment and reached with my opposite hand to stroke his erection. Goosebumps rose along his chest and he arched, moaning.

  
“Ngh, oh God, keep going.”

  
I licked my lips and pushed a second finger inside him, slowly, and gauging his reaction. My own erection, which I had been easily ignoring, ached. I worried my bottom lip with my elongated canines as I felt the aching pressure at the base of my cock increase. I pushed against his rim with my fingers, stretching his walls, before pushing a third finger alongside the other two to the first knuckle.

  
Stiles gasped. “More lube.”

  
I pulled my fingers out and drenched them in more lube before pushing them back inside him, wiggling in my pinky with my other fingers. Stiles dug his nails into the back of my shoulder and groaned, low and desperate. He squeezed his cock and dug his heel into the mattress, rocking against my hand.

  
“Fuck me, Derek, come on.”

  
I pressed my forehead against his shoulder and slicked myself up. I hesitated for a moment and squeezed my eyes shut. “Uhh, Stiles?”

  
Stiles squeezed his fingers against my shoulder blades and sighed. “Derek, come onnnnnn.”

  
I swallowed around the lump in my throat. “Stiles, I can feel my-I don’t think I can hold back my knot.”

  
I could taste his arousal on my tongue, heavy and cloying. So thick and pungent in the room my head swam with it. Stiles’ eyes rolled back a little and he pulled me against him. “Ohhhh God, yes, just-inside me now.”

  
I groaned as I aligned our hips and felt his rim stretch around me. I choked out a growl, and buried my nose under his jaw. Stiles threw his head back and sighed as I pushed further in him. I buried myself in such scalding heat.

  
I growled again and nipped at his jaw. “Stiles, fucking Christ.”

  
Stiles rocked against me raked his nails down my back. “Derek, mooooove-you-oh,OH. Oh Gooooooddd.”

  
I rocked back and thrust into Stiles, so deep our hipbones knocked. Stiles bowed his legs and arched off the bed, tendons in his body pulled so taught they looked ready to snap with the tension. He reached between us and pulled at his erection, fist bumping between our sweating stomachs. Stiles braced his left hand against the mattress to hold his upper body up as dug his opposite hand against my back to pull me against him.

  
God he was so tight. His scent seemed to fill every inch of me, as if it consumed me body, mind, and soul. My thoughts grew hazy, unfocused, as every facet of my mind circled around the scalding heat clenched around me and the sweat laden scent drowning my entire existence. I snapped my hips forward with such force that Stiles scooted up the mattress. I felt the pressure at the base of my cock increase and Stiles grew impossibly tighter.

  
I opened my mouth against Stiles’ throat. “Stiles, my-“

  
My knot grew and caught against Stiles’ rim. Stiles moaned and clutched me tight against him. I thrust one last time and Stiles wailed, arching into me and I clutched him tight. I closed my eyes and moaned, pleasure pulsing within every atom of my body. I stretched inside Stiles till I could feel him clenched around me like a vice.

  
I rolled my hips and Stiles gasped out a surprised, “Oh-OH!” He came between us and shuddered against me, moaning and arching. My mind went completely hazy with the scent of his musky come in the air. I shuddered and came, biting into the curve of his neck. Stiles jerked and I growled, biting harder, pulsing more come inside of him.

  
I heard Stiles as if from a distance as he hissed. “Dude, oww!”

  
We stayed like that for a while, my thoughts still far away and my mind unfocused and just a swirl of scents and the feeling of mate, mate, pulsing within the very core of my existence. I finally settled back into myself and pulled my head up to check Stiles over. I reared back, pulling against Stiles’ rim as I exclaimed out in horror. “Stiles! Oh my God!”

  
My bite had broken the tender skin along his neck. Slow, already clotting blood oozed from the perfect bight mark of my teeth. Stiles patted at his neck and gazed at the smeared blood on his hand with mild annoyance. “Did you really just give me a mate mark?”

 

I felt the blood drain from my face and my stomach roiled. “Oh Christ, Stiles I’m-“

  
Stiles grinned and kissed my jaw line. “Derek, calm down. I knew we were mates already.”

  
“But you ask before giving a mate bite! We’ve only gone on our first date, Stiles, fuck!”

  
Stiles laughed against me, whole body shaking. He threw his head back, exposing the already bruising mark. Sweat was beginning to dry against his hairline. His body felt relaxed against me, fucked out and content. “It’s okay, I accept your already delivered mate bite.” He laughed again at my turmoil twisted expression.

* * *

We laid on the bed beside each other after my knot went down. Stiles pulse was slow and steady enough for him to be dozing while I stared at the ceiling with a dawning sense of incredulity. Stiles stirred against me and remained silent for a moment.

  
“I lied you know, about having that paper to write. I just wanted to hear you talk about my scent.”

  
I turned my head to glare at him. “You are such a little shit.” He grinned, unapologetic and bright.

  
“How did you know so fast?” I asked. Stiles smirked.

  
“Well I am a student of wereology you know. It didn’t hurt that I have a fifteen year old girl for a best friend that tells me everything though.”

  
“Scott,” I grumbled.

  
Stiles patted my stomach with a lazy roll of his wrist. “You can thank him later.”

  
We laid in silence for a while longer when Stiles rolled on his side to slot himself against me. He propped his chin on my shoulder and smiled at me; eyes wide and fawning innocence, though his scent curled with mischief.

  
“Hey, since you decided to play vampires and take a chunk out of me, can you get me some ibuprofen?”

  
I felt a fresh wave of guilt and Stiles’ eyes softened, lips curling into a faint smile at my expression. He curled his fingers against my jaw and tilted my head toward him, kissing the corner of my mouth lightly.

  
“Hey, happy mistake, I’m glad it was you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! I'll be adding on one-shot timestamps eventually for this. I'll also be posting the first chapter to a magic coffee shop au I'm starting soon if any of you would like to follow me for updates :) I'm also on tumblr @http://dawigginator.tumblr.com/


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